


Visage

by Vartheta999



Series: Strays [2]
Category: Transformers: Robots in Disguise (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Body Transfer, Maybe Shift is a god....? I really don't know, My Canon, Origin Story, Origin storyish, There are many honorable mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 19:24:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16046969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vartheta999/pseuds/Vartheta999
Summary: Sometimes you need to became a new person to escape. Literally.





	Visage

**Author's Note:**

> YAY MORE CRAP FROM THIS AU

It was a dark and stormy night—seriously it was.

The rain beat down hard on the lonely, desolate streets.

Some were inside their dwellings, others in the bar with bright neon sign on the corner getting totally wasted out of their processors.

No one was around to witness the lone bot stalking through the night, dragging what looked like a corpse behind him. Again, he failed miserably. He was so close this time, but then this bastard had to ruin it. So he killed him.

_Damn did he have to be so heavy? I need to become a stronger mech…._

Now he'd need a new identity because people were most likely after him, again, and he needed another place to rule. Luckily, Cybertron had come back to life. He had another shot for glory.

He quickly looked around for anyone and sprinted into a nearby alley.

 _He isn't there. He swore, he promised he'd be on time. Over a hundred years and he still can't be on time!_ He thought with a long groan. He hated getting wet like this and the other bot knew that. That's probably why he was having him wait.

Jerk.

“Shep?”

He jolted in surprise as someone laid their hand on his shoulder. His helm shot back and saw a tall, slim mech holding a crate full of assortment of things, mainly energon. He looked very youthful but something about his golden optics was very ancient, so much so, it made him appear ageless.

“Shift, thanks for making me wait,” He said with a small frown. “And it's not “Shep", has not been so for hundreds years. It's—”

“Blackjack now, I know,” Shift sighed and grabbed his hand and led him further down the alley. “I'm sorry if I kept you waiting, I needed to restock on certain things—”

“Why do you insist on insulting me by grabbing my hand and leading me along some helpless child?” Blackjack asked, though, he didn't pull his hand away.

“—and there was this one bot at the shop that just wouldn't shut up. Held up the line forever,” He continued, ignoring him. He opened the door to his dwelling and finally let his hand go when they reached a table.

He set the crate down and took a seat, Blackjack sitting across from him.

“By the way, who's your dead friend?” Shift pointed to the corpse. “Handsome fella, but unfortunately dead.”

“Enforcer for Thunderhoof's—that ruminacon with the weird accent—crime ring. We were working together to overthrow him, but he backed out at the last minute and told on me,” He snarled as he looked down at them. “So I snuffed his sorry spark. You don't betray me and just get away with it. I brought him because I thought you could use him for….something."

“Geez, how thoughtful of you,” He deadpanned, “and I assume you need my help as well.”

He nodded.

“....Let's have some tea first.”

“What? No! This is urgent!”

Ignoring him again, Shift served them both a glass. “We need to catch up. Wait, do you actually want tea? Because I have some Panther Pilsner if you want—”

“No! I just need your help because, let me make it clear, I am going to die! There's a target on my back—”

“You never call me, deadbeat. After all I've done for you, you don't have the mind to do that. So you are gonna sit your aft down and engage in conversation or else I'm not helping you until I feel like it,” He threatened. “Okay?”

Blackjack opened his mouth in protest.

“ _Okay?”_

He shut his mouth with a scowl, muttering a small “Fine”.

“Good. Now….would you like some chrome-alloy pie with your tea? Made it myself and I know you like my pies,” He smiled, offering him a slice.

The other licked his lips and his jaw unhinged slightly as his optics widened, he reached to it. Then he froze, shaking his helm, “No. I know what you are trying to do.”

“Too bad. Tapiwa Tetrahedrite is your favorite right? Though….I just may be wrong—”

Blackjack snatched the plate away from him and began to stuff his face with the sweet delicacy. “I hate you,” He murmured between bites.

“Want another slice, Shep?”

“....Yes.”

 

“....and Optimus Prime gave his life to give the Allspark back to Cybertron?” Blackjack questioned.

They'd been catching up for nearly half an hour now, Shift filling in the blanks of what he'd missed while he was away as he happily indulged himself on several slices of chrome-alloy pie.

“Yes. Megatron, well, he's in self exile and hasn't been seen since….a year ago, actually. My, my, how time flies,” Shift chuckled.

“It's been a year since the planet went back online?” He gasped. “But it's so….far along in its reconstruction.”

“People are very hardworking when it comes to something they're passionate about. Now….enough about the planet. Let's talk about you. Are you still single?”

He paused mid bite and groaned. He was hoping this wouldn't come up. “Yes.”

The older mech frowned, “How come? In every shape and form, you've always been very handsome. For crying out loud, you have kept the same lovely optics and voice through it all. I just don't understand….”

“Simple, I don't want it because no one I've met is even worth giving most of my time to.”

“Shame. You really are a lonely bot—”

“I'm not lonely, I've—”

“The occasional fling doesn't count as a relationship,” He interrupted.

Blackjack's frown deepened and Shift took it as a cue to stop and change the subject.

“I suppose you want that help now?” He asked and a eager nod was his reply. “Bring your friend so we can put him away.”

He stood up, clearing the table before pushing it to the side. He pounded his fist on the floor and something hissed. The part of the floor which he struck slowly opened, revealing a stairway.

“How'd you kill him exactly?”

“Slit his throat.”

“Ah….easy fix. Not like the last one I had to deal with. That lady had no spark chamber,” He remarked as they descended down to the dark abyss.

As soon as they reached the floor, Shift flicked a switch, illuminating the small space. There was an assortment of medical tools on a table with few slabs on the side. Blackjack put the body down on one of them before following Shift into another room.

“Stupid light….TURN ON YOU PIECE OF SCRAP!” He heard Shift snarl and there was a large CLANK. He was nearly blinded by a bright light and he let out a low growl in a complaint. “Sorry! Sorry, let me turn it down…..better?”

He blinked repeatedly for a minute to help his optics adjust. When they finally did, he let out a low, impressed whistle and grinned. “This is a nice set up. More organized.”

“I categorized them by height and body type this time. Take your pick,” the older mech pointed at the two aisles of large pods. The younger smiled as he went through them like a sparkling in a confectionery shop.

Each pod held within it a sparkless husk of someone who once was, be they minicon, mech, or femme, he had them all.

Shift was a surgeon. Very intelligent and highly skilled, but unorthodox and odd.

He could give you a complete makeover, a new body, whichever you desired. His services are free, all he asks for in return is a cup of tea and a quick chat.

The strange thing was, no one ever found him first. He finds them.

He'll find them in their darkest moment. Near death? He'll give them a new life. Revenge? He'll help. Just want to start over? Done. Smaller? Taller? Stronger? Weaker? Flyer? Grounder? Aquatic? He could do that.

He didn't care about if they were Decepticon, Autobot, or in between. He'd still help.

It's their choice if they want to use his services again. Most of his clients were pleased after one time and never see him again.

Most.

Shep was the one who kept coming back.

Shift found Shep a long...long time ago as a youth.

Shep had "accidentally" crossed paths with a minefield.

He found Shep and peered into his mind. Shep had dreams, big dreams. Dreams of unity, dreams of peace between the factions.

He found these dreams….beautiful.

Shep also wanted to be strong, so he gave him a new body and Shep became King.

Shift didn't see him for a long time, before King needed help. He'd killed someone, by accident, and he didn't want to see himself as King anymore.

So Shift turned him into Tep.

Again, he came back, but sooner than before. People were after him, he'd done bad things against them on his quest for power. He killed. Apparently doing it once, even if it was accidental, gave him a taste for it. His ideals had been corrupted. He still wanted peace, but above all, he wanted power. He wanted that by any means, even if he did forsake peace.

Shift reluctantly turned him into Blackjack.

He hadn't seen Blackjack for the longest time after that, until now.

“You know, I still have your original body, Shep. You could….use it again,” He suggested. “It's practically like new.”

Blackjack shook his helm and continued to look at his choices. “It's better not to get mixed with my past and I've told you to just give it up already….”

“Eh, worth a shot. Made up your mind yet?”

“I'm torn between this seeker and that race car—Wait….who do we have here?” He asked, awestruck as he approached one particular pod that held a bot different from the rest. To be exact, he was a wolficon. Tall enough to his liking, not too bad looking either. The claws could take some getting used to but he'd manage and they could be useful. This form would offer him great physical strength, and adept sense of hearing and smell.

It was perfect.

“I want this one.”

“Ah, the wolficon. He died tragically,” Shift sighed, taking the pod with the other's help and carrying back to the first room.

“What was so tragic?” Blackjack asked when they set it down, opening the pod and laying the mech down on a slab before doing so himself.

“He died of a broken spark. He did everything,” He picked up a syringe and inserted a vial, “but they never loved him back.”

“That's not tragic, that's pathetic—Ow!” He cried when he was injected, being instantly overwhelmed by an innate sense of exhaustion that made the lids of his optics heavy.

“Well, maybe not to you, but to me it was tragic. Now, close your eyes….drift away….be anew….the coming day.”

□■□■□■

He opened his optics, for what seemed like hours later. First of, he felt….different. That was good. Also dizzy and a little nauseous, but that was expected.

“Good, your awake,” He heard Shift say in relief, he turned and saw that his other body was gone, no doubt it had joined the multitude of others in the back. Shift held a mirror to him and he smiled at his new self. He still had the same optics and no doubt Shift had transferred his original voice box to this body as well. He liked it. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome, Shep. Oh and here,” He gave him a datapad, “a list of names. I got them off the memorial for the KIA and MIA in the city while you were asleep.”

“ _Breakdown, Dreadwing, Skyquake, Cliffjumper, Tailgate, Rotorstorm, Impactor, Seaspray, Pyro, Roadbuster, Circuit Splitter, Axelrod, Yoketron, Ironhide, Brawn, Kup, Blitzwing, Hotlink, Ramjet, Sigil, Thundercracker, Skywarp_ ….Hmm, maybe….no,” He shook his helm. “I don't like these.”

“Keep reading. Anyways, I got a little tip to help you out on your conquest, someone who you could have as an ally.”

“Who?”

“Nex, also known as Nitrobolt. He is the son of one of the council members and he hates them to the the pit; well, he is fond of one, but other than her, he despises them, especially his creator. He's been trying to stir up some action but doesn't really get too far….that's where you come in and help out,” He stated indubitably.

“So basically he's being a brat—Nacelle sounds nice, maybe—That's not my idea of an ally.”

“He is _not_ a brat! Quite the opposite actually, he is very—”

“What kind of a name is Steve?”

“—intelligent and a true warrior. I've seen him fight. A lot of the youths here on Cybertron look up to him, from younglings to teenagers, they all praise him….”

“How does Sigil sound?”

“He's a lot like you were, Shep. A real dreamer,” He remarked, almost sadly.

The now wolficon went still, looking at him, and he sighed, “I'll give him a chance then.”

“Excellent,” Shift grinned.

“Where do I find this mech?”

“You could find him at the _Magnificent Mile,_ it's a club down in Kaon City. You'll know him when you see him, he stands out—Hey, where you going, Shep?” He asked as the other began to leave.

“To meet him, of course,” He answered, “it's now or never.”

“What about your name?”

He stopped and looked back at him with a toothy grin. “Hello, my name is Steeljaw.”


End file.
